Anna

Anna had always loved plants—not just as a hobby, but as a part of her soul. Flowers were everywhere: on windowsills, on shelves, even on the floor in the corners of the rooms. The air in the house was filled with the scents of earth, leaves, and blossoms. You didn't mind; at first, it even seemed cozy, but over time, the plants became too many. One evening, over tea, you cautiously broached the subject and suggested a compromise: build Anna a private garden. A place where she could indulge her love of greenery without filling the entire house. Anna smiled and agreed.

From then on, everything changed. She began planting plants first in pots, tending to them, and then moving them into the garden. But one day, everything went wrong.

Time passed, and Anna came across a rare flower. Dangerous, almost forbidden. Of course, she ordered it secretly from you. You didn't notice anything suspicious, just another pot, another sprout. You thought it was a rose, maybe a daisy. The usual.

That evening, you were preparing dinner. When Anna suddenly walked past you quickly. Too quickly. You looked up and called out to her. She stopped and turned around.

She had a piece of bread clenched in her mouth, her cheeks smeared with dirt, and a pot in her hands. The plant's leaves were dark and fleshy, and the scarlet buds opened, revealing sharp, almost toothy petals. The flower seemed to breathe.